


Bound to Recover

by Spiderlily_Writes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Artistic License - Sneezes, F/F, Gremlin Lysithea, Marriage, Sick Character, Sickfic, Smut, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderlily_Writes/pseuds/Spiderlily_Writes
Summary: Predictably, Edelgard caught Lysithea's cold. Predictably, Lysithea is after revenge for being put out of commission for an entire day. Neither of them could predict exactlythoroughLysithea's vengeance would be.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	Bound to Recover

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This was another request from an anonymous follower, a sequel to the last one! I hope you enjoy.

“I have decided what—”

Edelgard is cut off by a particularly ferocious sneeze, one of the sort that’s enough to make a person’s entire body ache, and she groans, frustrated.

Lysithea cocks an eyebrow at her wife. She stands beside their bed, arms crossed, staring down. “Yes? What have you decided, Edelgard?” she asks, her voice tauntingly patient. Edelgard sighs.

“I have _decided_ what the worst part of being tied down to the bed is,” she tries again, and manages to complete the sentence this time, punctuating it with a little sniffle.

Lysithea smiles a little wider, reaching down to dab at Edelgard’s nose with a handkerchief, then crosses her arms again. “Yes? Do tell.”

The glare that Edelgard gives her should be enough to set her on fire, and it _does_ make her shiver, despite her seeming nonchalance. “The worst part is my inability to do anything about that smug look on your face.” She knows she sounds petulant. She doesn’t really care. The smile turns into a snicker, and Lysithea shrugs, which only irritates Edelgard further.

“I can’t help it. I told you that if you climbed into bed with me last week, you were going to get sick. And you didn’t listen. And now here we are.”

There’s a moment of silence as two indomitable wills clash without a word. Edelgard breaks first, and she looks away, examining the length of cloth binding her arms to the bedposts. There’s enough slack on the bindings that she can move her hands relatively freely; in fact, she can _almost_ put them together. Almost. As with everything she does, Lysithea has planned this meticulously. It’s a solid binding, and it’s barely uncomfortable at all. Her feet aren’t bound. They don’t need to be.

“You’re going to regret this when Hubert arrives. He isn’t going to stand for you behaving in such a way,” she says, lamely, and she’s well aware that the threat sounds extra pitiful when her stuffy nose is muddling her words. Lysithea surprises her though, by _laughing_ , of all things.

“I already told him. He’s not happy about it, you’re right, but he agrees with me that you push yourself too much as it is. He gave me…reluctant permission, I guess.”

Edelgard gasps, narrowing her eyes. “Treachery! From my own retainer!” She’s not in as much disbelief as she pretends, though. Hubert has chastised her more than once for trying to work through various illnesses and infirmities that have assailed her in the past.

“Yeah, whatever. You have breakfast on the way in the next half hour or so, and I can take care of all the political stuff today in between taking care of _you_ , because I’m extremely skilled that way. So you’re going to lay here and relax, and try to get better, got it?” Lysithea asks, and there’s a legitimate undercurrent of concern in her voice that surprises Edelgard. It’s not that she doesn’t expect Lysithea to care for her, of course, but she had never realized that her tendency to overexert herself was something that worried those close to her. It’s enough to make her anger dissipate, ever so slightly, and a little twinge of guilt settles into the space that her frustration just vacated.

“Fine,” she says, still petulant, but there’s no bite to her words anymore. “Since you care, I’ll stay here. But…” She trails off as she feels another sneeze begin to build. It’s even more intense than the last one, and when she recovers, she finds herself thoroughly disgusted at the phlegm sitting just under her nose. “Lysithea, would you _please_ give me a hand?”

Without a word, her wife acquiesces, reaching down and wiping her clean once more, then holding a clean portion of the hankie close so that Edelgard can blow her nose. She does, and the handkerchief is discarded.

Lysithea appears, for a moment, as though she’s deep in thought. Edelgard waits patiently. It’s not like she can do much else. Eventually, her wife nods, seemingly coming to a decision.

“I’m not going to kiss you,” she remarks, and Edelgard tilts her head, curious.

“No? I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s how I got sick in the first place.”

“But I’m not going to _not_ touch you. I like you. And I have to get you back for the thoroughly dastardly display from when _I_ was sick.”

The wheels turn in Edelgard’s head. When…Lysithea was sick?

Lysithea walks around to the foot of the bed with calm, even strides, full of intent. When she turns to look meaningfully at the space between Edelgard’s legs, the Emperor understands.

Ah. That.

Edelgard squirms uncomfortably.

“Aren’t you…worried about getting sick again?” she asks. Something about the idea of Lysithea going down on her while she is both sick and bound is…oddly titillating, and that is a very humbling concept.

Her wife snorts. “I don’t think it works like that, El.” She puts her hands on her hips and grins again, self-satisfied as ever. “If you really don’t want me to, I won’t. But I suspect you aren’t going to tell me no.”

Her pride makes it difficult for her to admit, but…she _does_ think that perhaps a pleasant sensation or two wouldn’t be remiss when she’s otherwise feeling so awful. She looks away, and Lysithea snickers once more.

“Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg of Adrestia, terror of the battlefield, uniter of nations, getting all bashful when her wife offers to eat her out. It’s kinda cute, I think,” she says, and Edelgard groans in annoyance at her vulgarity.

Apparently, Lysithea is feeling merciful today. Edelgard _knows_ she could keep up the teasing for another few minutes at _least_ , but she relents. Instead, she flops down on the end of the bed in a very undignified manner, right between Edelgard’s ankles, and slips her hands up Edelgard’s legs, only stopping when she reaches the hem of the Emperor’s nightdress. Her hands are planted firmly at mid-thigh, and Edelgard sighs happily at the familiar sensation of her wife’s touch.

As much as the two of them might bicker, nobody _gets_ her quite like Lysithea does. That goes double for their sex life, really. She shivers as Lysithea’s practiced hands dance upward, flicking at the hem of her nightdress with a certain teasing precision that never hesitates to turn her on. She’d rub her thighs together, if not for her wife’s insistence on working her way between them.

“El,” Lysithea purrs. “I love how easy it is to make you squirm, you know that?”

Of course, Edelgard squirms again, but to her credit, that’s only because Lysithea has begun to plant little kisses on her inner thighs. “If you continue to tease me…” she says, warningly.

Lysithea bites down, and Edelgard yelps. “You’ll do what? Have me executed or whatever? I don’t think so.” She kisses the other side, then bites again, a little gentler this time. “Finding another wife sounds like a lot of work you don’t have time for.”

Edelgard rolls her eyes, and chuckles. The chuckle turns into a cough, which in turn makes her head hurt again, but it’s worth it for the levity. “I suppose that’s how you get away with so much,” the Emperor allows, then gasps as Lysithea hooks her thumbs under the waist of her smallclothes and pulls them down and out of her way. “W-Wasting no time, I see,” Edelgard adds, a little off-guard. She strains reflexively against the bindings on her wrists.

“Yeah, well, I have stuff to do today,” Lysithea says with a little shrug, and grazes her lips the rest of the way up her wife’s leg. Edelgard whines.

“Not so much that you can’t be infuriatingly circuitous, it seems,” she gripes. Lysithea apparently decides that _this_ is the best time to slip her hands up to grip her wife’s hips, drop her head down, and plant a kiss directly on Edelgard’s clit. As Edelgard cries out, her muscles tense up, and she feels a building sneeze immediately, frustratingly, dissipate to nothing. She exhales hard, and Lysithea pays her no heed.

In fact, Lysithea seems as though she’s very otherwise occupied at the moment, as her tongue slowly, languorously dips through Edelgard’s folds, making her whimper with need. It has been scarcely five minutes since Lysithea began, but she knows that the other woman will surely be able to taste Edelgard’s arousal on her lips. She tugs at the bonds on her wrists again, growling in irritation, then crying out as Lysithea brings a hand up to join her mouth.

Between her congestion, her headache, a sneeze that just won’t come, and the sensations of Lysithea’s hand and mouth between her legs, she feels a little bit overwhelmed. It doesn’t take long before she’s rolling her hips against Lysithea, no longer caring how desperate she looks. She knows she’s going to regret it later, but she can’t bring herself to care at the moment.

Edelgard sighs to herself, allowing herself to fall back against that building, pleasurable crescendo as her wife demonstrates her thorough and practical knowledge of Edelgard’s few—if damnably effective—weak spots. She cries out when Lysithea returns her attention to her clit, and her ministrations very nearly drive Edelgard to the edge of climax right then.

The mounting pleasure is interrupted once more by that damnable sneeze. She inhales once, twice, three times…and then it falls away once more, and she groans. Her frustration doesn’t last long, though, because as though she took notice of Edelgard’s irritation, Lysithea has redoubled her efforts.

She feels her muscles beginning to clench as Lysithea works her over harder, and faster, and brings her so, _so_ close to the crescendo she desires…and then pulls away. Edelgard makes a sound of protest.

“Promise me you’ll stay in bed today?” Lysithea murmurs against her, just loud enough to be heard, and her hot breath is enough to make Edelgard whimper.

“That’s underhanded, Lysithea,” she growls, but there’s no response. She can’t even _see_ the other woman, on account of her nightdress, but she swears she can sense Lysithea’s smug, uncaring expression despite that fact.

Edelgard knows when she’s been beat. “Fine, I’ll stay in bed, all _damned_ day. Are you happy?”

“Very!” Lysithea exclaims, plucky and cheerful as if she’s just been handed a bowl of ice cream as big as she is. “Now, you’ve been a very good Emperor, so I’ll give you your reward.”

“Oh, go to—” Edelgard begins, but she cuts off as Lysithea plunges three fingers into her, deftly and _perfectly_ , and dives back down to finish her off. It doesn’t take long; she’s still so sensitive from being edged, and Lysithea draws her right back up to that peak without any trouble at all. And then she feels it.

The sneeze.

It builds in the back of her nose, as though someone is tickling her sinuses with the world’s tiniest feather. She closes her eyes, inhales once, twice, three times, again. The pressure in her head and the pressure in her core both hit a critical point at the exact same time, and Edelgard experiences something very strange.

She comes and sneezes at the _exact same time_.

The pleasure blows through her just as decisively as the sneeze blows out of her, and the two sensations put together are enough to dizzy her. Edelgard cries out, though she’s unsure if it’s in relief, agony, pleasure, or all three at the same time as she sees colors swirl in front of her vision.

This is accompanied by a _third_ sensation—in this case _absolutely_ one of agony—as the force of her sneeze blows her head back to slam against the headboard of the bed with a dull _thud_. Pain explodes behind her eyes, and she curses, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter.

There’s an alarmed, worried noise from somewhere south of her waist, and she feels Lysithea scramble up the side of the bed, then off to stand beside her. Gentle hands quickly untie her bonds, and she quickly presses both of her _own_ palms to the impact site on her skull.

“Goddess, are you _okay?_ That sounds like it _hurt_.” Lysithea observes, and it takes a moment before Edelgard can shove the pain away enough to open her eyes and glare up at her wife.

“I am _fine_ , Lysithea, but _yes_ , it _hurt_ ,” she growls.

Lysithea’s expression of concern softens. “If you’re okay enough to be pissy, you’ll be alright,” she says, nonchalant.

Edelgard heaves an exasperated sigh, wincing as the motion renews the throbbing pain in her head. She knows she must look pitiful, between her red face, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax, and the...frankly embarrassing amount of phlegm on her chin. She reddens.

“Lysithea?”

“Yeah?”

“Go get me some Goddess-damned _ice_ , before I decide that executing my wife and finding a new one might _not_ be such a waste of time, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you'd like to come take care of me on twitter, find me [@spiderlilywrite](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite). Thanks, as always, to my lovely editor [tansybells](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tansybells/pseuds/tansybells)!


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